


Heroes Reborn

by splixx



Category: Original Work
Genre: Aliens, Artificial incubation, Assigned destiny, Body Modification, Chosen destiny, Embryo modification, Other, Planets, Science Fiction, Superheroes, Superpowers, space
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-24
Updated: 2018-08-24
Packaged: 2019-07-02 01:49:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15786477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/splixx/pseuds/splixx
Summary: **TRIGGER WARNING: ABORTION**Parents who do not want their babies have the option to hand them over to science.If the parents will allow it, the embryo will be placed within a specialized cyrotank, pumped full of magical abilities the moment they are placed inside. They are to remain within there until further notice.Why? It was a simple answer.It all traced back to The "Heroes Reborn" project, a campaign set up for parents looking to abort their babies to grant them the ease of knowing that their child will have a purpose without them. What better way to do that than to turn them into superheroes?





	Heroes Reborn

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING: MENTIONS OF ABORTION. DO NOT PROCEED IF AFFECTED.
> 
> also, just a side note: I'm very pro-choice, despite how this series looks. I just thought this would be an interesting idea.

**The sound of the rain on the vehicle was the only thing that restrained Darla from breaking free from the seatbelt.**

   She tried her best to drown out the poisonous thoughts that lurked throughout her brain, but no matter how much willpower she used to try and tune in to the gentle drumming of the raindrops, her mind always came back to swallow her whole.

    Despite the protection of the vehicle shielding her off from the rain, Darla still felt like she was drowning, tumbling down into the dark, icy depths of her grief.

     _You bastard,_ a voice eerily similar to her own bit out, deep within the hollow of her skull.

     _How could you, Darla? How could you do such a thing?_ her mother wailed from somewhere in the back of her head, sending fiery arrows into her chest with each word.

     _Listen to her,_ her doppelganger hissed, and for a moment Darla could feel chilling fingers grip her shoulders before dissipating.  _Listen to how you made your mother cry._

 _Go away,_ she pleaded. Her knuckles turned the shade of bones as she held on to her seatbelt like it was the throat of an enemy. Sweat as cold as the raindrops outside ran agonizingly slow down her face, making her hope it was the car that had sprung a leak.  _Please, no more! I already told them I didn't have the resources to raise him! I told them I didn't want my child to grow up in the slums like I did!_

 _LIAR!_ her father's scream tore from one side of her brain to the other, causing her to shrivel back into the seat.  _You're only being selfish! I bet you have tons of money you're not telling us about! You can raise the child, you just don't want to!_

_No, no! That's not true! Stop, please! No m-_

"Darla! Honey, it's okay."

    Darla only acknowledged the fact that she was crying when she blinked on something warm and wet. Her breath shook as she raised a gloved hand to brush them from her stinging cheeks, glancing around in wild confusion as the horrors settled and reality returned.

    There, her husband sat close beside her, looking slightly less disheveled than herself. His eyes were wide and worried from where they resided behind his drooping glasses.

    "I know. I know, this hurts," he murmured to her, waving off the driver a seat in front of them when he looked over his shoulder in concern to reassure him, "but neither you nor I can have a child right now, and that's okay." He pushed her black hair to the perimeter of her forehead to press a kiss to her temple. "He's going to be happy here. They're going to give him the care he needs, keep us updated and send pictures, have lots of other friends around him...He's going to do great, Love."

    Darla sniffed, managing a small smile at her husband's comfort. "Do you...do you really think so, Atzel?" she quietly inquired, wiping the last few trails of her tears away.

    Atzel nodded. "I know so, Dear. He's going to be an incredible young man. I bet he's already getting his first powers right about now!" he exclaimed, trying his best to lift the mood just a bit, even if he himself didn't look at his best.

    Darla said nothing, only quietly nodded and offered him a small smile. Despite his comforting words, she was still physically shaken up, and was beginning to feel her fingers start to run cold. She leaned against Atzel for reassurance until the cab finally pulled into the slick driveway.

    Darla thanked the driver as Atzel made his way out, ducking his head as to not hit it against the ceiling of the car.

    Darla made the process of scooting across the seats to her husband painstakingly careful, not wanting to pull the stitches trailing across her stomach. She grabbed the dipping silver head of her cane, listening to it clink against the asphalt as she poked around outside of the car to find support.

    When her husband was unable to aid her in transport, it was often her cane that came as a second option. She found it quite painful to walk hunched over without it.

    Once she pulled herself out of the car, Atzel reached out with a hand and interlaced their fingers, reminding himself to guide his wife towards the entrance at a slow pace. Behind them, the purr of the hovercar's engine stuttered to a stop, not wanting to waste energy as he waited outside to drive the couple home.

    As they began to approach the building, Darla decided to take advantage of the slow gait they were traveling at. Her heart sunk as she realized how far from civilization the building was located. Towering trees encircled the vast clearing of space, seemingly watching Darla with a judgemental stare the moment she pulled into the parking lot. From the edges of the asphalt, tall, unruly grass sprung to life, leaning over as if trying to tickle the black concrete. She could hear several birds cloaked by the secrecy of the treetops whistling their tunes, making Darla unable to help but wonder how they could sing so sweetly on a day like this.

    A narrow path from which they came split through the row of trees, leading into the large circular parking lot that Darla estimated could perhaps fit six adult elephants. At the ending point of the lot stood a square building, looming over her and Atzel at three times the size of the mighty oaks, watching them with hundreds of black tinted windows. A sidewalk ran down the side of the white bricked building, leading them down to a smaller square that appeared to be the security room.

    Reaching this little secluded box, Darla peered past the glass door- the only glass that wasn't tinted- and connected eyes with an old lady in a booth attached to the right wall. Behind the booth were four glass doors, tinted black. On the opposing side of the booth sat six chairs and a small blue coffee table in the shape of a circle, supposedly a waiting room by the looks of it.

    Her aging face wrinkled with a smile as she noticed them, pressing a button to unlock the door closest to them. Once they made their way inside the much warmer room, she locked the door again for safety precautions.

    Darla insisted she take one of the seats and have Atzel fill in the senior woman with their information, not wanting to be overcome with emotion this early. He, fortunately, understood, and approached the front of the booth, speaking to her through a speaker implanted within the glass.

    Once Atzel peeled himself from her side, she sank into the plastic seat with a heavy sigh and a twist in her expression when pain shot through her middle. She mentally scolded herself for not being gentle, but honestly, who could blame her? This was, unforgettably, one of the most exhausting, painful days of her entire lifetime, neck-and-neck with the day she got these damned stitches that were a constant reminder of what she had done.

    Despite her recent efforts, Darla could feel the familiar sting of tears and the savage claws of emotion digging into her body, grateful that Atzel finished up giving the lady their information and was approaching her to help her through the second set of doors.

    "Come on," Atzel told her gently, taking note of how exhausted and despaired she looked as he guided her arm across his shoulders. "Our son is waiting."

    Darla sniffed, grief pulling at her,  _begging_ her to run back to the car and return home to drench her pillow with her tears all day, but another part of her was dying to see the baby boy that was taken from her, dying to see if he was truly doing as good as Atzel had said. She felt like she was crossing the border into dangerous territory the moment they stepped past that door, feeling the atmosphere change instantly around her, like it was trying to choke her from where she stood.

    Her hand balled into a fist around the material of her husband's jacket, nearly tearing it from the force she was applying as they made their way down a long, dark corridor, illuminated by gentle, dim blue lights inserted into the walls in rows.

    She felt herself being pulled both backwards and forwards, and in her confusion, she blindly followed Atzel into the dark. They soon came to the end of the hall, standing face-to-face with two gray doors, small circles for windows situated high on the two slabs of metal.

    As Darla rubbed neurotically at her eyes, a scientist from beyond the door seemed to have spotted them, for one of them quietly opened to reveal a short man in white robes and blue gloves, a white mask hiding most of his features.

    "Try your best to be quiet," the man whispered when he stepped politely out of the way, allowing them to enter. "I know this is hard on you, but I don't want to disturb the children."

    Darla stood, frozen in her spot, with her mouth dangling open like it was broken. Thin black platforms extended far beyond the massive room, and on top of them all were cylindrical tanks reaching towards the roof. The room had no lights, the only source of illumination the dim cyan glow of the mysterious liquid inside the cyrotanks. In front of the machines were flat panels with foreign buttons and lights that were hooked up to the containers.

    Babies of different developmental stages quietly floated in the foreign liquid, looking so peaceful and at ease.

    Darla's hand raised to cover her mouth, trying to resist the urge to bite down from the wave of emotion that came to batter her. "Where...where's my son?" she whispered, her voice shaking. Atzel placed his hand on her shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. He bit his lip harshly, different emotions flickering through his eyes.

    The scientist gazed at them sympathetically. "In Section Twelve, ma'am. Right this way." Without a word, he began to lead the couple to the destination they had been waiting for hours to arrive to.

    Darla almost didn't follow, so overcome with emotions to the point where she began to shake. Her breath caught in her throat like a nail, piercing her down to the bone once she got the courage to follow the doctor with her husband at her side.

    Everything around her became a blur, a smudge of blue and white and black. The only thing that stood out to her was the doctor's back as they walked down the corridor of cyrotanks, until the scientist himself began to blur out, too. Soon, the only thing that stood out to her was the cylindrical shape of the cyrotank, and the small body of the child she prayed she could somehow find the resources to keep. But it was far too late now. She had failed him. Failed to somehow find a way to be the mother she yearned to be to this child,  _her_ child.

    Her arm shook like an earthquake as she reached out to touch the glass of the tank, hearing herself breathing audibly, shakily. The surface of it felt warm as she lowered her palm onto it, and for a moment, it felt like she could brush her hand along her baby's skin.

    Her breathing picked up the pace, catching her lower lip between her teeth. Her face twisted into that of pure grief, and soon, the frigid tiles below her were being peppered by her swift stream of tears.

    Her shoulders trembled as she leaned forward to press her forehead against the glass of the tank, sobbing hysterically. "My boy...I'm so sorry..." she whispered, her tears hooking onto her chin.

    Atzel watched on in agony, his own tears catching on the frames of his glasses.

    The scientist hung his head in somber silence.

    "I'm sorry. I'm sorry we can't have you with us," Darla sobbed, opening her eyes to look at the small body of her son. "But..." Her free hand slowly lifted, fingers trembling, to place it on the face of the tank. A small, sad smile graced her lips, a tear dribbling around the corner of her mouth.

    "We, and always, will love you, even if you don't remember us." She screwed her eyes shut, causing more tears to run free. "No matter how far apart we are, we will always be with you, Draco."


End file.
